Not Right Now
by Muggle Jane
Summary: There's still so much to say, but now's not the right time. Written for Ray for the GGE2014


**A/N: Disclaimer of disclaiming, etc. Written for Ray for the GGE2014!**

It had been the longest day of Ginny's life- and there was still no end in sight. It was an odd day, too, a day of both celebration and mourning. It felt wrong to be so relieved, and so utterly heartbroken at the same time. George had told her that Fred wouldn't want her moping about over him, and she knew he was right, so she'd tucked away her sorrow and put on a brave smile for Mum.

As the day wore on, the gathering of people had moved from the Great Hall to the Burrow. It was the first time Ginny- most of the family, in fact- had been back home in a while. It looked just the same as it had when they'd fled in the night- the collection of old wellies and rusted cauldrons that had been cleaned up for Bill and Fleur's wedding had migrated back out to the back garden, the grass was that shade of spring green that never seemed to get dry, no matter how much sun it got. And inside was the same- homey, worn, familiar. And, currently, filled with people.

She had to get away. George was already gone, and from the looks of who was left, some of his old mates from the Quidditch team had gone with him. That was good- Ginny didn't want him to be was keeping himself pretty close to Mum so that she wouldn't have a chance to ask where George was. She was taking it the hardest. She'd tucked the family clock away in the pantry where she wouldn't have to look at it, and she was carrying Fred's childhood teddy bear with her, the expression on her face like she was looking for him to give it to him.

The warm press of people and the noise were starting to make Ginny's head throb. She glanced around, and then ducked upstairs, headed for the solitude of her room with its quiet view of the orchard.

She was only a little surprised when she pushed open the door and saw Harry already there, sitting on her bed. He looked up as she stopped in the doorway, not saying anything. He'd had a chance to clean up, get a change of clothes. He looked tired, though, so tired, and so drained. If there was anyone who needed a respite from the day, it was Harry. Everyone wanted to touch him, hug him, shake his hand. No one seemed to care that he'd lost friends, that he'd... died.

There was so much between them that needed to be said, so many questions and accusations, probably yelling and tears. But looking at the bone-numbingly weary expression on his face, she knew that it could wait. It would have to wait. And so she let him stay where he was as she came into the room and closed the door behind her.

She could feel him watching her as she crossed to the window and stared out at the bright, sunny day outside. People were moving about down there, there simply wasn't enough room in the house to hold everyone, but no one looked up at her bedroom window. She no longer had to smile for Mum, and the expression dropped from her face, the muscles in her cheeks aching in relief. Her fingers closed over the painted wood of the sill, her eyes directed at the grass below without really seeing it.

"I'm sorry about... about Fred."

His voice, full of sorrow and hopelessness, pulled her attention back into the room, and she looked over her shoulder at him. She could see the pain she was feeling reflected in his eyes. "I'm sorry too," she replied, so quietly that it was almost a whisper. She knew that Professor Lupin's death had hit him especially hard. She knew him well enough to know that he would feel responsible for everyone who had been lost that day. And he'd died too... They shared a look, a moment of understanding, and then she turned away, looking out over the garden again.

"Mum wants you to stay here," she said after a while. She turned to look at him, jumping a little when she noticed that he was just behind her. He'd stood and moved without her hearing, and now he was just over her right shoulder, his glasses off and his own eyes trained on the window. She knew how bad his eyesight was, she knew that it would all be just a green blur to him. Maybe that's what he was looking for, to just get lost in that big blur. She could certainly relate.

"I will. I'll let her know tonight. Hermione's got all of my things up in Ron's room."

"You don't have to sleep up there. I think Hermione's planning on taking Percy's room, but Bill and Charlie's room is empty now." She didn't mention that Fred and George's old room was also empty. She didn't want anyone else sleeping in Fred's old room, not even Harry. Not that it was really up to her.

"Ginny..."

"Not right now." She shook her head. "There'll be enough time for that later." Without looking, she reached out for him, her fingers finding and closing over his own. His hand was a little sweaty, rougher than it had been the last time she'd held his hand. He stepped up beside her, and she rested her head on his shoulder, lacing her fingers between his as they both stared silently out the window.


End file.
